A Noble Child's Story
by elliementarymydear
Summary: Her story will soon fly across the stars, but she needs a little help from a good family friend. Where will this young girl's adventures take her? An OC fanfiction for the wonderful show Doctor Who.


Stars that swirled in front of me, a moon with no light. There was a planet, far below me, but it wasn't home. A dazzling sun, that was home, I think. It came into view as I moved with the Earth's twirl, and I felt it's warmth blow through my hair and dance around my fingertips. There's something in the way though. I can't leave. I don't want to leave. Had I left there, or had I left the planet? The sun? The blue box was flying away. Don't go.

I blinked open my eyes, feeling drowsy and confused. Where had my stars gone? Why was there wood blocking my view? I licked my dry lips as the memories came. Home. This was home. It was defiantly too hot at home. I pushed back the heavy blankets and peeled off my socks, suns and blue boxes forgotten. My dreams are slippery like that, I can never hold onto them for too long. I crawled over the pile of fleece and the sleeping black cat and moved the curtain aside. It's too windy at home as well. Warm wind. Don't go. I slide off the bed and open the closet; all familiar things, so normal. No school today I think, the sun was too high. Unless I'm late. Am I late? Oh yeah, calendar. Turing around, I squint at the other wall, searching for fuzzy squares. Glasses. I knew I forgot something. I walk to the wall and feel around the dresser for them, and they're slipped on loosely. I need to tighten them, another normal thing.

The sight in the mirror is a strange one, my glasses are already slipping down my nose and my hair is sticking up in strange places. It's an redish-orange color. The sun. Don't go. With my sight now cleared I can see everything as it should be, and I glance at the calendar before dressing in a simple outfit. Midnight blue sweater, loose jeans, and my hair in a comfortable bun. Perfect. I yawn as I lumber to the kitchen, feeling oddly heavy; I'm to lazy to stretch like my cat does before he meows for food. Just a moment I think, and he narrows his eyes at me. Fine, he seems to say. I give him a short nod and grab an easy breakfast. Without a second thought, I grab the blue bowl with white polka dots. That's odd. That is my mum's favorite bowl, not mine. Huh, oh well. Blue box... don't leave me.. I stare at the bowl, thinking.

"Don't even think about running off again without telling me, Stella!" A woman with bright red hair and cool brown eyes saunters in, wearing pure purple pj's. I sigh, looking away from the bowl, "Yes, mum." She smiles at me and goes to the cat to greet him. I grin, "I do have to go though, checking the mail!" I say, running to the door and grabbing the keys on my way. She stands up and smiles, but stops, "Hang on a sec, did you eat something, or feed the cat for that matter?!" I pause with my hand on the doorknob, considering just lying. A look from my cat gets the better of my and I frown, "I'll just be a moment, I'll ride my bike! Then I'll come back and feed him!" She shakes her head and looks down at the cat, "What am I gonna do with her?" she returns her gaze to me, "Fine, fine, but be careful!" I barely hear her, I'm already out the door and down the steps, grabbing my blue bike. I toss the keys in the white basket and jump on, eager to get moving.

Turn the corner, down the hill and I'm flying. Past the houses, the barking dogs, and the singing birds; none can reach me as I make a sharp turn towards Main Street. The post office isn't too far, just a few blocks away, but those streets are full of hills. They're absolutely perfect for gliding. I grin, ignoring any faces that might look my way, even those that raise their hand in greeting. I'm much too busy to care about the little ants when I'm up among the stars, flying with the asteroids.

Good things, however, cannot last forever; I slow to a stop in front of the old two-story building. There's a place to lock your bike up next to the steps, and I would never take a chance like that with mine. With that done, I slowly walk up the steps and grasp the smooth handle.

"I wouldn't do that If I were you." I freeze, who was that? Were they talking to me? I turn, but no one was there. "Hello?" I say, probably looking like I'm crazy. The handle grabs my attention once more, and the silver feels colder under my hand. It suddenly feels like something important is happening; It feels like a story. I smirk slightly and say to myself, "I do love a good story.."


End file.
